


Running Away Is Easy

by Acting4Hope



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (though he's fine now), (we put canon in the garbage can where it belongs), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healing, Introspection, M/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reconciliation, Resurrection, mentions of past death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 08:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acting4Hope/pseuds/Acting4Hope
Summary: It's the living that's hardNed wakes up at the end of the almost-end of the world and tries his damnedest to live in spite of it.





	Running Away Is Easy

**Author's Note:**

> welcome, gays and gaymers, to the True Ending of Amnesty. y'all thought ep 36 was real??? nahhhh that was just filler!!! griffin was buying me time to get this baby on the tracks and rolling!!! everything he's said is entirely disregarded bc it was just!!! filler!!! 
> 
> so anyway, i started this fic way before the finale bc i had a Feeling this loose end was never gonna get tied back in, and lo and behold i was right. so i bring you, my very good fic where Ned Comes Back!!! but, he comes back Different....hmmmmm wonder what will happen ;))))))) maybe you'll just have to stick around to find out ;)))))) 
> 
> fic title is nabbed from [Time Moves Slow by BADBADNOTGOOD](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWIIPX_5rbM) which is a song i have always felt strong ned-vibes from, so feel free to listen while you read!! as always, there is no guarantees to this getting finished, but i rlly want to!! so if you like it, you should let me know!!! so i can have motivation!!! 
> 
> anyway enjoy the good good y'all, love you

The most troubling thing about stars is that, no matter how open the sky is, or how close you are to space itself, they still seem so far away. As if the Heavens have dangled them there, luring humans in with their beauty but also the ever-present reminder that no matter how far they go the stars will always be just a bit farther away. 

At least, that’s how Ned Chicane feels, surrounded by a galaxy of stars in every direction. 

Or, that’s how he _ would _feel if feeling was something he could register. As it is, he only gets the notion of feeling; the barest hints of sensation mingling with breaths of emotion. 

He registers the stars and their frustrating brilliance. He also registers the fact that they are everywhere, no longer constricted to just the skies above his head. 

Or perhaps the stars have remained in-place, and Ned has simply joined them? He wouldn’t know the difference. 

He can’t know the difference, too immersed in the glittering balls of light that encompass his very being. It feels right to be here--once again, if feelings were capable--amongst the stars. Feels comforting. Feels _ safe _. 

Ned cannot remember the last time he’s felt this safe. 

Ned cannot remember anything at all. 

And then, like a missing puzzle piece at last discovered and clicked into place, he _ can _. 

He can remember busy streets and mindless noise. Can remember cold stares and even colder shoulders in a shabby, two bedroom apartment that never truly felt like home. He remembers buying his first car; how good it felt to have something that was wholly _ his _. Remembers peeling off down the concrete in it a few short weeks later, making a promise to never return to the coldness that held him for so long. 

He remembers years of struggling, years of adventure. 

He remembers the hazel eyes of a frightened girl, moments before a terrible accident. 

Then the tape speeds up, and Ned remembers everything in quick succession. 

The crash. The Cryptonomica. Victoria. The Bigfoot video. Amnesty Lodge. Sylvain. Barclay, Kirby, Mama, Duck, Sheriff Zeke, Dani, Jake Coolice, Hollis, Keith, Calvin Owens, Aubrey Aubrey _ Aubrey _\-- 

He remembers her words to him in the Cryptonomica, clutching her stolen necklace to her heart and piercing Ned with a look of disappointment. Of hatred. Of deep and utter _ hurt _. 

_ “You know one last thing, Ned? Before you run, and hide, and lie, and whatever it is you do, you might try to clean up a little bit of the mess you’ve made.” _

The stars surrounding him are spinning, now, in an orbit around Ned as he scrambles for what’s beyond that. Was that truly his last memory? Why does he not remember more? He parses through the pieces of his past as the stars spin faster and faster. For the first time in a long while, Ned goes beyond registering feelings. He _ feels _ , feels confused, feels hurt, feels sorry, feels _ dizzy _\--Jesus, why are the stars moving so fast? 

Ned zeroes his focus in on them now, as their rotation reaches its zenith. Amidst the blurry of stars, Ned can make out a shape. Large frame, hunched slightly, whilst pantomiming a cane in their right hand. Ned’s slurry of emotions stops at the sight of this figure, as Ned is washed over with a new feeling: Warmth. 

The figure smiles, a crooked, gentle thing that is so familiar. 

“Naw, I don’t think they’re done with’ya yet, Ned,” The figure says. 

The stars overtake the form, swirling until all Ned can see is white. 

And then… 

Light. 

\---

Ned awakens with a gasp, as if he’s just broken the surface of a dark, treacherous ocean. His sight is immediately blinded by the harsh lights above him, and he’s struck with his first, true, _ genuine _feeling: 

Pain. 

The lights pierce his skull with a sharpness that ebbs slightly when he squints. Through the pain, his other senses breach the surface; he smells industrial cleaner, he feels cold metal on his back, he hears his own breaths coming in quick succession. As his sight returns, the light’s glare fades and Ned can make out his surroundings.

He sees a tiled ceiling with long LED lights. Movements too sluggish for his thoughts, Ned flicks his eyes to the right side of him and catches the sight of a person. 

He sees a flash of red-orange dyed hair in a tousled pomp. Sees a jean vest covered in pins and a number of scorch marks. Sees the wide, almost panicked amber eyes of Aubrey Little, her right hand hovering in the air like she was caught in the middle of the motion. The other hand is slapped over her mouth in shock, staring at Ned like one would a ghost. Just the sight of Aubrey brings memories to the surface, of her hatred and anger and sorrow at Ned’s mistakes, and Ned feels like apologizing once more. Unfortunately, his body has yet to catch up, so all he can do is watch as Aubrey slowly moves her right hand back to her side. Fat tears well up in her eyes and flow freely without a sound. Ned’s heart squeezes with guilt, so he looks away. 

On his left is Barclay, staring at him in much the way Aubrey is. His hair looks like he got into a fistfight with a tornado, and his beard--while trimmed back--looks just as unkempt. His flannel has rips and dirt stains, and his face sports a nasty black eye. Despite all of this, he still looks at Ned with those beautiful green eyes brimming with tears. It’s now that Ned notices his left hand is occupied, clutched in Barclay’s in a tight grip. 

He feels too much in this moment--too much confusion, too much guilt--and so when his voice finally returns to him it’s hoarse as he says: 

“B-Barclay?” 

Barclay chokes at this, a smile stretching across his face despite all odds, as he fervently nods his head. 

“Y-Yeah, honey, it’s me. It’s Barclay,” His voice trembles with emotion, and then he finally crumbles and breaks down. Ned is so confused, but instinct kicks in that has him squeezing Barclay’s hand to let him know it’s okay. This only seems to make it worse, as more sobs erupt from his husband. He curls in towards Ned, and Ned feels the urge to catch Barclay’s head and guide it to his shoulder. As it is, though, his limbs are sluggish and slow-moving; so all he can do is watch. 

Then, Ned realizes Barclay and Aubrey are not the only ones in this room. Ned looks around and notices just about every person Ned’s ever considered a friend is gathered here. Mama stands a foot or so away from Barclay, hat pulled slightly over her eyes to mask the few sobs that escape her intimidating figure. Moira stands next to her, corporeal, offering Mama a box of tissues as she looks onto Ned with a small, teary smile. Directly at his feet is Jake Coolice, clutching Hollis’s hand as he beams at Ned, his eyes already bloodshot from crying. Hollis looks a little weepy too, and they give Ned a mock solute before turning away to wipe at their eyes with their battered jacket sleeve. A few other Hornets are gathered behind the pair (Keith, Tim, and Bevin the only ones of note; Tim and Bevin giving Ned a small wave as Keith turns and says something to someone further in the room), their jackets all sporting their fair share of holes and rips. Next to them is Duck, who is shaking with sobs he refuses to let out, only occasionally leaning into Indrid’s shoulder to cry before righting himself and smiling in Ned’s direction. It’s baffling to even see Indrid _ here _, as Ned faintly remembers the Mothman making his grand escape when they were fighting that tree. But what’s an even more baffling sight is the seven foot tall woman standing on the other side of Duck, one powerful hand clasped on his shoulder as she regards Ned with a bright smile. Somehow, the surprises don’t stop there because standing next to Leo Tarkesian (who looks at Ned with his own weepy grin), hand interlocked with the other man’s as he looks at Ned, is Thacker. 

Fucking _ Thacker _. 

He looks much better than the feral man Ned remembers being locked in the Panic Room last time he saw him. With a beard to rival Ned’s own, and long dark brown hair mingled with grey and stopping at his triceps. Life has returned color and fullness to his face, and his blue-grey eyes are lined with little wrinkles and age spots. He looks tired, but overall good. And Ned _ wishes _he knew how the hell Thacker got better. He wishes he knew a lot of things, right now. Like why everyone’s crying, or how he ended up going from the Cryptonomica to this white-tiled room. 

Ned’s confusion must be showing because Mama steps forward and places a strong hand on his leg, patting it as she says, “I know this is a lot to take in, buddy, but we’ll get ya back up t’speed.” Barclay lifts his head and gives Ned another smile as he leans over to press their foreheads together. 

“I missed you so much,” Barclay whispers hoarsely. “I’m so glad you’re _ home _.” 

“I…” Ned starts, silencing the whole room at once. Ned fumbles with what he wanted to say in the silence; comedy seems to be too inappropriate of a diversion for this moment. So, he tries something new--something he should have tried long, long ago. He’s _ honest _ . “What’s happening? Why am I--no, _ where _am I? Did…” Barclay leans away and watches Ned with a palpable sadness, and the action short-circuits Ned’s brain again. He’s almost afraid to ask, but his confusion is constricting. “Did something...happen?” 

The silence is deafening; looks are shared between everyone but Ned. He’s gone from everyone’s eyes on him to everyone avoiding his gaze. Even Barclay turns away. Ned’s confusion turns to frustration, and he’s about to voice as much when the door at the back of the room slams open. The whole room turns at once to regard the commotion. Ned is out of the line of sight, but he can hear loud and clear who it is. 

“Move, move, move, move _ move move move _\--” Kirby charges through the crowd and doesn’t stop until he collides with his target. He throws his arms around Ned’s torso and buries his face into his stomach. Ned’s shock mingles with a dull ache from the collision. 

“Kirby?” He asks, though it’s very clear from the faded bubblegum pink hair and the sensation of metal frames jabbing into his gut that it’s the one and only. His voice only serves to make Kirby cling harder as he lets out the loudest, grossest sobs in the room. 

Ned’s never been the greatest comforter, and this whole situation proves that theory. Sure, he can provide a good anecdote or a hearty back slap, but all of this crying and crying on him has him scrambling for what to do. Kirby and Ned have nothing near a “professional relationship”--they’re more like old friends who decided to open a business together. And sure, there have been a few times after-hours where drinks have turned to sob stories that left Ned holding Kirby until the grief subsided. But those moments were few and far between, and not the end of a very long chain of tears. His witty remarks are nowhere to be seen, so Ned settles for what he _ can _do: rub a small circle on Kirby’s back until something changes.

“I came as soon as I heard, did he--” Ned looks up at the new voice. Standing just beyond the threshold of the doorway is a woman in a long, violet robe with a multitude of scarves wrapped around her neck. It takes a moment for the memory to dislodge, but Ned sees the pointed ears and the faint glow to the woman’s eyes and registers a name: Janelle, Minister of the Arcane. She looks stuck between thoughts, hands clasped in front of her as she surveys the room. “It worked, thank the Heart Herself,” Janelle mutters as she takes a few short strides to end up at Ned’s side, just behind Kirby’s bent-over form. “It’s good to see you, Ned.” 

“It,” Ned starts, but he coughs--throat dry from disuse. “It’s good to see you too?” Janelle doesn’t seem to register Ned’s response, her eyes surveying every inch of Ned like he was the pages of a book. 

“Tell me, Ned, does any part of you...hurt? Internally,” The question is so abrupt it throws Ned for a loop. “Any sensations of...rotting? Or perhaps any sort of feeling of organs failing? Is--” 

“_ Janelle _.” Barclay’s voice is sharp and he levels Janelle with a glare. Janelle shuts her mouth, cheeks warming a bit as she turns around and looks at the other’s unimpressed stares. 

“Oh, what?! He was under a stasis spell, and it was done in such a hurry I have to make sure nothing ended up--” 

“I don’t think now is a good time t’ask,” Mama responds, giving a not so subtle nod to the two men clinging to Ned like a lifeline. Janelle seems to realize this, as she goes rigid. 

“Oh! Oh, right. My apologies,” She gives a small bow and then steps back to stand at Mama’s side, not so subtly interlacing her fingers with the taller woman’s. Ned watches the exchange with no amount of bewilderment because when the hell did _ that _become a thing? 

Kirby, in the time it takes Ned to parse the romantic situations of his kinda-boss, has calmed down enough to shift off of Ned’s stomach. He stands and then fumbles for a chair before one is brought to him by Keith, who gives Kirby a small smile before returning to his place behind his leader. Kirby sits down and grabs Ned’s hand, nearly mirroring Barclay on the other side of him. His face is significantly redder than usual and his eyes still shimmer with tears yet to fall, but the smile he gives Ned is wide and relieved and full of so much emotion. Kirby opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his lips. 

“How’re you feelin’, Ned?” Duck’s voice rises above the silence, causing Ned to look at him. He has stepped closer to Ned, but hangs back all the same. Ned pauses to take stock of his...well, _ feelings _ before responding. 

“Could be better,” He replies, “Been sort of immobilized by my two compatriots right here, but other than that…” He fidgets against the cold steel he’s laying on. Barclay catches this movement and immediately lets go to help Ned sit up. The directional change has Ned’s head swimming for a few seconds, but he catches himself before he starts to pitch to one side. 

“That better?” Barclay asks, his breath a welcoming warmth on Ned’s shoulder as he keeps Ned steady. 

“Oh, yes,” Ned says, sounding breathless. He can’t help it; each point of contact is a roaring fire against Ned’s skin. Barclay’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, his hand resting on Ned’s forearm. The tickle of his beard on the side of Ned’s face. It’s all entirely too much for a man who spent the last...long period of time in a feeling-less void. His chest burns with the searing fondness he feels for this man and he shifts so that their hands are intertwined once again. Barclay looks down at the gesture and smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of Ned’s face. Kirby has the comedic intuition to gag, easing some of the weird energy in the room. Ned rolls his eyes in Kirby’s direction. 

“Oh, pardon _ me _ for having a heartfelt moment with my _ own husband _ . I didn’t realize this was a _ church _.” Ned’s voice drips with sarcasm and causes Kirby to snort. It would almost feel like a normal day at the Cryptonomica, except… “Actually, where are we? I feel like I asked this sooner, but we all got a little sidetracked with our--” he coughs awkwardly into his arm, “--touching moments that it never got answered.” Now that he’s sitting up, he takes a better stock of his surroundings. “Am I? Is this…” He locks eyes with the very tall woman beside Duck, who cocks her head at Ned. “Are you my nurse?” 

“Does she _ look _like a nurse?” Barclay asks incredulously from beside him. 

“Well--_ no _, but--now hold on, dear, you’re missing the point.” 

“I’m just saying, don’t ask dumb questions if you don’t want dumb answers, honey.” 

“Sweetie pie, I understand this, but you have completely avoided the core premise of my questioning--” 

“I just--like--she’s wearing _ battle armor _, Ned, why would you--” 

“_ Oh my God _ ,” Kirby cuts the pair off before they devolve further. “She _ isn’t _ a nurse, and this _ isn’t _ a hospital. We--” He pauses, the room settling back into the awkward tension it has sat in for so long. Ned turns to face Kirby, which only seems to make Kirby flounder more. “We--I, uh. We’re--” 

“It’s not important,” Aubrey’s voice cuts through the air for the first time, and the exhaustion lacing her tone sends a shiver up Ned’s spine. He doesn’t dare turn to face her, feeling much like a deer caught in the lights of a speeding 16-wheeler. He listens to her take in a sharp breath. “Mama, we should get going, right?” 

“Yeah, we oughta,” Mama says, looking to Aubrey, though Ned’s focus has drifted to the fine wrinkles on Mama’s face to avoid the temptation of following her gaze. “I can’t imagine Agent Dipstick ‘s gon’ be able to keep his FBI buddies busy for too much longer.” Ned’s eyebrows furrow at the implication, but he doesn’t comment. He has a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t get much of an answer, anyway. “Y’all can all head to yer homes, if y’wanna. Lodge is kind of a mess right now, I’m assumin’, but it’s open to anyone who’d rather the company. If not, then I’ll see y’all tomorrow; meetings at noon in th’ lobby.” She’s let go of Janelle’s hand to address the crowd, but once she’s said her piece Janelle drifts back to her side. Mama looks at her out of the corner of her eyes and smiles. “Aight, I’m tired as shit, so I’m off.” 

Everyone starts to say their goodbyes at Mama’s declaration, tight hugs and pats on the back and tired smiles shared all around. Each person takes the time to say goodnight to Ned, minus Aubrey, who makes her silent escape in the commotion. Ned tries not to let it hurt. 

Emphasis on “try”. 

Pretty soon, the only three left in the room are himself, Barclay, and Kirby. They sit in the relative silence of the room, broken only by the whirring of fluorescent lights and the ambient noises heard through the door leading outside. After a moment, Barclay squeezes Ned’s hand one last time and then lets go. 

“Alright, we should go,” He says, turning to Kirby. “You wanna help me get this one up?” He gestures to Ned with his head, cracking a small grin when Ned gasps in offense. Kirby snorts and gets up from his chair. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kirby stands beside Barclay in front of Ned, giving Ned’s knee a hard slap. “Still gotta earn my Elderly Assistance Badge anyway.” Barclay lets out a loud laugh, which sends Kirby into a small fit of laughter as Ned gawks dramatically at them. 

“I’ll have you two know they don’t call me Ned “Spry Spring” Chicane for nothing!” Ned declares, pushing himself off the cold metal slab to stand. Unfortunately, he had yet to account for the amount of time he spent lying down, and so his legs immediately buckle. Barclay’s arms wrap around him in an instant, Kirby grabbing onto one of his arms to assist in steadying the larger man. Ned’s vision swims in stars and nebulas for a moment as he gets his bearings, but soon enough he’s back on Earth with Barclay murmuring worriedly in his ear. 

“‘M fine,” Ned’s mild slur betrays his words, but he presses onward by straightening up to full standing height. “Just a bit...had the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.” He attempts a reassuring smile at the two men holding him up. Tonight is just not the night for falsitudes, as the two continue to look anxiously at him. Ned feels that same frustration from before mingle in his gut. “_ Please _, can we just go home?” Barclay nods at this, taken out of his anxious stare to slowly lead Ned out of the room. Kirby follows suit, silent but ever-present in Ned’s periphery. 

“Let’s get you home, big guy,” Barclay says as Kirby opens the door and lets the pair walk past and into the night. None of them comment on what “home” is supposed to reference. 

None of them comment on the fact that Ned can clearly recognize the morgue he’s just stepped out of, either. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to harass me on a website that isn't ao3, then feel free to pop over to [my tumblr!!!](https://lesbian--susie.tumblr.com/) I have a lot of Good Posts and Good Ideas, and you are free to check 'em out or ask me about 'em! C'mon, coward!! Do it!! Talk to me!!


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